


Bitter all utterly things sweet

by LiveOakWithMoss



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bitchy fluff, Cousin Incest, Insults in lieu of endearments, Light allusions to BDSM, M/M, Naked post-coital elves in baths, Teasing, if that's a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 20:50:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2481995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Curufin doesn't do affection. But he does do insults (and Finrod).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bitter all utterly things sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cygnete](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cygnete/gifts).



> 0\. I wrote this as a reward for Silje getting through a frankly impressive beast of a week. She requested something sweet between one of her OTPs. This challenged me, as I wasn’t sure Finrod and Curufin were _capable_ of sweetness. But I gave it a stab, and what do you know, those snarky bitches can actually be pretty fluffy if given the chance. And a large enough bathtub.  
>  1\. YES I PUT THEM IN WATER AGAIN I’m sorry, hit me with trope clubs and stab me with originality spears.  
> 2\. Title is from ee cummings.

“I have started keeping a list,” said Finrod musingly, tipping his head back over the lip of the bathtub, “of the ways you have managed to insult me.” 

“Mm,” said Curufin, sinking back in the warm water and not bothering to open his eyes. “Is this a list you start anew each day, or a cumulative one, stretching back to the Years of the Trees?” 

“Manwë, no,” said Finrod. “If my records went back that far, I’d have a tome. A multi-volume collection. No, I decided to start keeping track last week, after you suggested that perhaps I was afflicted with a particularly insidious brain parasite. In full council. Before all of my most senior advisors.” 

“It was a very real concern,” said Curufin lazily. “You cannot count that as an insult, dear cousin, I was genuinely worried for your well-being.” 

“Followed, five minutes later,” Finrod went on, poking Curufin with a toe. “By you suggesting that my time amongst the Secondborn had, and I quote, ‘addled’ me and made me ‘dangerously, nay, negligently short-sighted – more of a weak-eyed, burrowing mole than a king’.” 

Curufin opened his eyes, considering. “That I think you could safely add to the list,” he said. “Hah. That was a good one.” 

“That one, at least, you saved until the council had broken up.” 

“Yes, well,” said Curufin, and gave a sharp smile. “I always like the effect I can have on you when I whisper political insults as I push you against a wall.” He looked suddenly thoughtful. “Why, given the effect my words have on you, I half suspect that your record-keeping serves a far more  _carnal_  purpose than an academic one…” 

“It is purely scholarly, I assure you,” said Finrod, as Curufin’s smile widened and he pushed himself up from the side of the bath. 

“No doubt,” said Curufin soothingly. He slipped through the water to slide against Finrod. “You have always been deeply invested in scholarly pursuits.” He ran a finger down Finrod’s chest underwater, and watched in satisfaction as the color rose once more in Finrod’s fair skin. He brought his lips to Finrod’s ear, his nose brushing against Finrod’s damp hair, and whispered, “But perhaps I am too… _hard_  on you, cousin.” His hand trailed lower, finger dipping teasingly into Finrod’s navel. “I am curious to see what effect the opposite might have on you…Shall I see what compliments I can find for you, rather than insults?” 

“I find it hard to believe you have any,” said Finrod, evenly, but his fingers had clenched on the lip of the tub, and Curufin could see the quickening of his pulse in the flutter at his throat. 

He pressed his lips to it, for Finrod’s gasp, and murmured, “You are so quick to respond, Ingoldo…it is one of your greatest qualities. Ah – I suppose I mean in specific contexts. If only you responded with such enthusiasm, such rapidity, to certain topics I bring to your attention, rather than stagnating as you do…Oh, but for shame,” he sighed, and ran his hand down the inside of Finrod’s leg. “I have already canceled out one compliment with a critique. A terrible habit I have.” 

“I do not think I even heard a compliment in there,” said Finrod, widening his legs slightly and lifting his hips, but Curufin ignored him, still playing with the sensitive skin on the inside of his thigh. 

“Let us see if I can find a another, then.” Curufin thought as he wrapped his hands around Finrod’s hips and tugged him away from the edge of the bath. Finrod shuddered, making to wind his legs around Curufin’s waist, but instead Curufin slid past him to settle against the edge, and pulled his cousin back against his chest. He rested his chin on Finrod’s shoulder, hands still light on Finrod’s hipbones. “I like the way the blood rises in you,” he said quietly, “I like how you struggle to keep your composure even as your body responds.” He illustrated the phenomenon by turning his caress into a drag of nails along Finrod’s inner thigh. Finrod’s breath quickened and Curufin laughed softly in his ear. 

“I like when you occasionally turn your dull, sheep’s mind from pointless, ingratiating diplomacy – ” 

“That goes on the list,” interjected Finrod, breathless but amused. 

“ – to actual innovation.” 

“Why, cousin,” Finrod turned in Curufin’s arms to regard him, “are you speaking at last of what I have achieved in the delving of these halls? Are you for once not complaining about the heating system?”

Curufin scoffed. “Of course not. You know I think your clammy tunnels could have been endlessly improved by consulting with  _actual_  craftsmen. No, the innovation I mean is on a different scale. And more recent.” 

Finrod narrowed his eyes and Curufin smirked and pulled him back down into the water. “I speak of your sometimes devilishly inventive ideas in the bedchamber. You quite surprised me with the ropes, Ingoldo, and the riding crop…Well. I never expected such an adventurous streak.” 

“I am glad you enjoy it.” 

“I do suspect that it is I who brings out the best – or perhaps worst – in you, however.” 

“I won’t deny that you bring out the worst in me. But I take issue with you claiming responsibility for my adventurous side. You speak to one who crossed into these lands over the Grinding Ice,” Finrod pointed out. “Surely, had I not been an adventurous sort I never would have ended up here. Much less as we are.” 

“As we are,” said Curufin, and pulled his hands through Finrod’s wet hair, letting it stream free into the water, uncoiling like seaweed. “Yes. Though I weary of your endless belaboring of the Helcaraxë. A single chilly excursion, and one would think…But never mind that now. I think I have a final compliment for you, Findaráto.”

“Goodness,” said Finrod. “Three in an evening. Is it my begetting day come early?” 

“Hush,” said Curufin. “Sarcasm has never suited you; you don’t have the mouth for it.” He ran a finger along the mouth in question and felt the lips part under his touch. “No, my last compliment for you is that you were quite right – this vast, decadent, entirely unnecessary tub, so ingeniously heated by the thermal springs, was a wonderful idea.” 

Finrod frowned as Curufin’s fingers dropped to his jaw and slowly tilted his head back. “The design for this bath was  _your_  idea.” 

“Oh, that’s right. So it was,” said Curufin. “Perhaps my compliment then, is that you finally heeded the ideas of one much, much cleverer than you. Oh – and credit where credit is due, it was your idea to use the bath for certain purposes, and on that front, I have no complaints.” 

“Big of you,” muttered Finrod, but let Curufin kiss him. 

After a time they settled back, Finrod’s head on Curufin’s shoulder as Curufin murmured almost inaudible words into his ear. 

Finrod gave a murmur as Curufin nipped lightly at his ear. “My dear Curvo, I believe the warm water has turned you soft.” 

“I think you’ll discover the opposite,” purred Curufin, wrapping his arms around Finrod’s chest. 

Finrod smiled. “It gentles you then,” he whispered, turning his head to nuzzle against Curufin’s jaw. 

“How dare you? I am never gentle. Take it back.” 

Finrod sank back in Curufin’s arms, content. “Never.” 

“Such calumny,” said Curufin softly, even as he kissed Finrod’s bare shoulder. “I shall start my own list of offenses you make me, and that shall be the first entry.” 

“See that it is,” said Finrod, and closed his eyes, smiling. 


End file.
